KNEE-DEEP 



■ 1 ? 



JJbJUNE^ 

III AND 

OTHER POEMS 

ibl I! 1 111 IS 111 If 



I I 11 11 1 

J A ME S 
WHITCGMB 
RILEY 




Glass __ 
Book_ 



fP D C* 



&% 



Gopyright^°_ ftyy 



.COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/kneedeepinjuneotOOrile 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



WILL VAWTER J 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1912, 

BY 

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



All Rights Reserved 



PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & COMPANY 

BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



c/ 
tCLA320933^_ 



■ 




KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 



TELL you what I like the best — 
'Long about knee-deep in June, 
'Bout the time strawberries melts 
On the vine, — some afternoon 
Like to jes' git out and rest, 

And not work at nothin' else! 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 



Orchard's where I'd ruther be— 
Needn't fence it in fer me! — 

Jes' the whole sky overhead, 
And the whole airth underneath — ■ 
Sorto' so's a man kin breathe 

Like he ort, and kindo' has 
Elbow-room to keerlessly 

Sprawl out len'thways on the grass 
Where the shadders thick and soft 

As the kivvers on the bed 

Mother fixes in the loft 

Alius, when they's company ! 

Ill 

Jes' a-sorto' lazin' there — 
S'lazy, 'at you peek and peer 

Through the wavin' leaves above. 
Like a feller 'at's in love 
And don't know it, ner don't keer! 
Ever'thing you hear and see 
Got some sort o' interest — ■ 
Maybe find a bluebird's nest 

8 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 



Tucked up there conveenently 

Fer the boy 'at's ap' to be 

Up some other apple-tree! 
Watch the swallers skootin' past 
'Bout as peert as you could ast ; 

Er the Bob-white raise and whiz 

Where some other's whistle is. 

IV 
Ketch a shadder down below, 
And look up to find the crow— 
Er a hawk, — away up there, 
Tearantly froze in the air !— 

Hear the old hen squawk, and squat 
Over ever' chick she's got, 
Suddent-like ! — and she knows where 
That-air hawk is, well as you !— 
You jes' bet yer life she do !— 
Eyes a-glitterin' like glass, 
Waitin' till he makes a pass ! 

V 

Pee-wees' singin', to express 
My opinion, 's second class, 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 

Yit you'll hear 'em more er less ; 

Sapsucks gittin' down to biz, 
Weedin' out the lonesomeness ; 
Mr. Bluejay, full o' sass, 

In them base-ball clothes o' his, 
Sportin' round the orchard jes' 
Like he owned the premises ! 

Sun out in the fields kin slzz, 
But flat on yer back, I guess, 

In the shade's where glory is! 
That's jes' what I'd like to do 
Stiddy fer a year er two ! 

VI 

Plague ! ef they ain't somepin' in 
Work 'at kindo' goes ag'in' 
My convictions! — 'long about 
Here in June especially ! — ■ 
Under some old apple-tree, 

Jes' a-restin' through and through, 
I could git along without 
Nothin' else at all to do 
Only jes' a-wishin' you 

10 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 

Wuz a-gittin' there like me*, 
And June was eternity! 

VII 

Lay out there and try to see 
Jes' how lazy you kin be S — 

Tumble round and souse yer head 
In the clover-bloom, er pull 

Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes 
And peek through it at the skies, 
Thinkin' of old chums 'at's dead, 
Maybe, smilin' back at you 
In betwixt the beautiful 

Clouds o' gold and white and blue!- 
Month a man kin railly love — 
June, you know, I'm talkin' of! 

VIII 

March ain't never nothin' new!— 
Aprile's altogether too 

Brash fer me ! and May — I jes* 

'Bominate its promises, — 
Little hints o' sunshine and 
Green around the timber-land— • 

12 



KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE 



A few blossoms, and a few 
Chip-birds, and a sprout er two, — 
Drap asleep, and it turns in 
'Fore daylight and snows ag'in ! — 
But when June comes — Clear my th'oat 

With wild honey ! — Rench my hair 
In the dew ! and hold my coat ! 

Whoop out loud! and th'ow my hat 

June wants me, and I'm to spare ! 

Spread them shadders anywhere, 

I'll git down and waller there, 
And obleeged to you at that ! 





13 




-J 



THE ORCHARD LANDS OF LONG AGO 

THE orchard lands of Long Ago! 
O drowsy winds, awake, and blow 
The snowy blossoms back to me, 
And all the buds that used to be ! 
Blow back along the grassy ways 
Of truant feet, and lift the haze 
Of happy summer from the trees 
That trail their tresses in the seas 
Of grain that float and overflow 
The orchard lands of Long Ago ! 

14 



THE ORCHARD LANDS OF LONd AGO 



Blow back the melody that slips 

In lazy laughter from the lips 

That marvel much if any kiss 

Is sweeter than the apple's is. 

Blow back the twitter of the birds— 

The lisp, the titter, and the words 

Of merriment that found the shine 

Of summer-time a glorious wine 

That drenched the leaves that loved it so, 

In orchard lands of Long AgoS 

O memory ! alight and sing" 
Where rosy-bellied pippins cling, 
And golden russets glint and gleam, 
As, in the old Arabian dream, 
The fruits of that enchanted tree 
The glad Aladdin robbed for me ! 
And, drowsy winds, awake and fan 
My blood as when it overran 
A heart ripe as the apples grow 
In orchard lands of Long Ago! 



16 



v ,. 

WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE 
TREES 



IN Spring, when the green gits back in the trees, 
And the sun comes out and stays, 
And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze, 

And you think of yer bare-foot days ; 
When you ort to work and you want to not, 

And you and yer wife agrees 
It's time to spade up the garden-lot, 
When the green gits back in the trees 
Well ! work is the least o' my idees 
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees! 



BZ 



WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES 

When the green gits back in the trees, and bees 

Is a-buzzin' aroun' ag'in 
In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please 

Old gait they bum roun' in ; 
When the groun's all bald whare the hay-rick stood, 

And the crick's riz, and the breeze 
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, 

And the green gits back in the trees, — 
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, 
The time when the green gits back in the trees ! 

When the whole tail-feathers o' Wintertime 

Is all pulled out and gone ! 
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb, 

And the swet it starts out on 
A feller's forred, a-gittin' down 

At the old spring on his knees — 
I kindo' like jest a-loaferin' roun' 

When the green gits back in the trees — 
Jest a-potterin' roun' as I — durn — please — 
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees ! 



19 



OLD OCTOBER 

^LD October's purt' nigh gone, 
And the frosts is comin' on 
Little heavier every day — 
Like our hearts is thataway ! 
Leaves is changin' overhead 
Back from green to gray and red, 
Brown and yeller, with their stems 
Loosenin' on the oaks and e'ms ; 
And the balance of the trees 
Gittin' balder every breeze — 
Like the heads we're scratchin' on ! 
Old October's purt' nigh gone. 

20 



OLD OCTOBER 



I love Old October so, 

I can't bear to see her go — 

Seems to me like losin' some 
Old-home relative er chum — ■ 
'Pears like sorto' settin' by 
Some old friend 'at sigh by sigh 
Was a-passin' out o' sight 
Into everlastin' night! 
Hickernuts a feller hears 
Rattlin' down is more like tears 
Drappin' on the leaves below— 
I love Old October so! 

Can't tell what it is about 
Old October knocks me out!— 
I sleep well enough at night — 
And the blamedest appetite 
Ever mortal man possessed, — 
Last thing et, it tastes the best! — ■ 
Warnuts, butternuts, pawpaws, 
'lies and limbers up my jaws 
Fer raal service, sich as new 
Pork, spareribs, and sausage, too — 
Yit, fer all, they's somepin' 'bout 
Old October knocks me out ! 

21 



A CANARY AT THE FARM 



FOLKS has be'n to town, and Sahry 
Fetched 'er home a pet canary,— 
And of all the blame', contrary, 

Aggervatin' things alive ! 
I love music — that's I love it 
When it's free — and plenty of it ;— - 
But I kindo' git above it, 
At a dollar-eighty-five ! 

Reason's plain as I'm a-sayin', — 
Jes' the idy, now, o' layin' 
Out yer money, and a-payin' 

Fer a wilier-cage and bird, 
When the medder-larks is wingin' 
Round you, and the woods is ringin 5 
With the beautifullest singin' 

That a mortal ever heard ! 

Sahry's sot, tho\ — So I tell her 

He's a purty little feller, 

With his wings o' creamy-yeller, 

And his eyes keen as a cat ; 
And the twitter o' the critter 
Tears to absolutely glitter! 
Guess I'll haf to go and git her 

A high-priceter cage 'n that! 

2.2 



A SONG OF LONG AGO 

SONG of Long Ago : 

Sing it lightly — sing it low — 
Sing it softly— like the lisping of the lips we 

used to know 
When our baby-laughter spilled 
From the glad hearts ever filled 
With music blithe as robin ever trilled ! 



A SONG OF LONG AGO 



Let the fragrant summer breeze, 

And the leaves of locust-trees, 

And the apple-buds and blossoms, and the 

wings of honey-bees, 
All palpitate with glee, 
Till the happy harmony 
Brings back each childish joy to you and me. 

Let the eyes of fancy turn 

Where the tumbled pippins burn 

Like embers in the orchard's lap of tangled 

grass and fern, — 
There let the old path wind 
In and out and on behind 
The cider-press that chuckles as we grind. 

Blend in the song the moan 

Of the dove that grieves alone, 

And the wild whir of the locust, and the 

bumble's drowsy drone; 
And the low of cows that call 
Through the pasture-bars when all 
The landscape fades away at evenfall. 



25 



A SONG OF LONG AGO 



Then, far away and clear, 

Through the dusky atmosphere, 

Let the wailing of the killdee be the only 

sound we hear: 
O sad and sweet and low 
As the memory may know 
Is the glad-pathetic song of Long Ago ! 



26 




WHERE THE CHILDREN USED TO PLAY 



THE old farm-home is Mother's yet and mine, 
And rilled it is with plenty and to spare, — 
But we are lonely here in life's decline, 

Though fortune smiles around us everywhere: 
We look across the gold 
Of the harvests, as of old — 
The corn, the fragrant clover, and the hay ; 
But most we turn our gaze, 
As with eyes of other days, 
To the orchard where the children used to play. 

27 



WHERE THE CHILDREN USED TO PLAY 

O from our life's full measure 
And rich hoard of worldly treasure 

We often turn our weary eyes away, 
And hand in hand zve wander 
Down the old path winding yonder 

To the orchard where the children used to play. 

Our sloping pasture-lands are filled with herds ; 

The barn and granary-bins are bulging o'er : 
The grove's a paradise of singing birds — 

The woodland brook leaps laughing by the door; 

Yet lonely, lonely still, 

Let us prosper as we will, 
Our old hearts seem so empty everyway — 

We can only through a mist 

See the faces we have kissed 
In the orchard where the children used to play. 

O from our life's full measure 
And rich hoard of worldly treasure 

We often turn our weary eyes away, 
And hand in hand we wander 
Down the old path winding yonder 

To the orchard where the children used to play. 
28 



SEP 23 1912 



